


Dream

by CousinSerena



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: "I Have a Dream" speech, #GOC2020, Angst and Feels, Civil Rights Movement, Crowley Has Feelings (Good Omens), GO30Challenge, Good Omens Celebration 2020, Historical Figures, Inspirational Speeches, M/M, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Speeches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:09:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24354832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CousinSerena/pseuds/CousinSerena
Summary: Good Omens Celebration: Day 24: DreamIn 1963, Aziraphale and Crowley find themselves in the U.S., bearing witness to one of the most moving historic events in modern history. As they listen to Martin Luther King Jr.'s "I Have a Dream" speech, they remember a past encounter with history.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 26
Collections: Good Omens Celebration





	Dream

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to do at least one challenge prompt for the Good Omens Celebration. When I saw the "Dream" prompt, for some reason this popped into my head rather than actual dreams, and I wrote this in one sitting. I wanted to handle it tastefully, and I researched that day to get some of the details right. Hopefully I did, and I apologize now if I got anything wrong. Of course the quotes are actual excerpts from Dr. King's speech.

August 28, 1963

Washington D.C.

Lincoln Memorial

Decades later, some people would remember it as a pleasantly mild summer day. Others would remember it as sweltering and humid. Some folks, further back in the crowd, sat by the reflecting pool and dipped their toes in the cool water as they waited for the speech to begin.

Over 250,000 people had gathered together at the culmination of the March, crowding as close as they could to the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. The crowd was so massive that it stretched all the way back to the Washington Monument, and yet it was the most peaceful and orderly gathering of this size Aziraphale had ever seen. He stood amongst the humans, _sans_ coat in order to blend in, shirtsleeves rolled up in accommodation to the weather.

As Aziraphale glanced around him, he noted men and women, white faces, black faces, people of all races and colors in fact, and all ages from children to the elderly. There were even people dressed in the religious garb of various faiths. Many of them held signs, as they had been marching. Some read, “We Demand Equal Rights Now!” or “We Demand an End to Bias Now!” 

This was the culmination of the March on Washington, and Aziraphale had come to bear witness to this historic event.

Now the young man who had brought it all about, Reverend King himself, stood at the podium and began to speak. _“Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice …”_

Aziraphale had managed to get fairly close to the steps of the monument, close enough to see the young man’s face as he spoke passionately, glancing down at his notes on occasion, his voice booming over the crowd. The humans did not jostle, push, shout, or yell. They stood in the heat of the sun, transfixed. They only shouting was the occasional “Yes” or “My Lord,” in response to Rev. King. 

“Hello, Aziraphale.” 

Aziraphale jumped, startled to find that Crowley had appeared next to him, seemingly out of nowhere. He had a flash of deja vu, recalling Crowley’s greeting him at the Ark.

The demon’s hair was only slightly longer than when he’d last seen him in 1941, in a smooth sculpted style currently in fashion. He smiled broadly at the angel, then looked about as if noticing for the first time that he was in the midst of a massive crowd. Then he looked up at the man at the podium.

“I know this one. Seen him on the television. Have you heard him speak before?” Crowley asked.

“No. Well, yes. But I mean, not—not like this, not in person. Only on the television, as you say.”

Crowley nodded, listening along with everyone in silence for awhile. It was difficult not to be entranced. 

Suddenly Azirphale turned to him. “How did you find me here, Crowley? Were you in the area doing temptations?”

“Supposed to be sowing discord in the southern states, don’t ask me why they sent me. The humans are doing things to one another most demons wouldn’t even think of. They’d bloody better not credit me with this Downstairs. It’s a commendation I don’t want,” he added angrily. 

Aziraphale nodded in sympathy, knowing his friend would not want to be credited with the burnings, the lynchings, the beatings, the overall cruelty of which he’d only glimpsed a fraction in the time he’d spent in this country.

“Anyway, as far as finding _you_ , I sensed you in the crowd,” added Crowley. “Though there’s plenty of holiness rolling off those steps too,” he said with a small smile.

“You know, Crowley, this reminds me of another time we stood together in a gathering, not the Ark, but later. Although at least this is not such an awful and sad occasion.”

“Right,” agreed Crowley, and fell silent.

“I do understand what the humans see in him. One can only hope they truly _listen_ ,” said Aziraphale. “I’ve been in the area for days now, and I’ve seen some awful things happening here, Crowley. Not the worst of it, but I had to perform a miracle at a lunch counter one day. Nobody else was helping.”

“Yes,” said Crowley, “I’ve seen some of it on television. And here’s _this_ one, just telling them to be kind to one another. Just like before.”

Now Dr. King had stopped looking down at his notes, and he addressed the crowd spontaneously, his speech morphing into a sermon as the crowd responded.

_“I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: ‘We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal.’ I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood…”_

Voices punctuated Dr. King’s speech, shouts of “Yes, Lord” and “Preach,” and “Tell it!” in a call and response. 

Aziraphale was listening raptly and glancing at the crowd. “Look at them, Crowley. Look at _him_. He’s so young.”

“They always are, aren’t they?” Something like anger in the demon’s voice made Aziraphale wrest his gaze from Dr. King to look at his friend.

“Crowley, are you—are you crying?” A single tear was rolling its way down the demon’s cheek but Crowley hurriedly wiped it away. He pursed his lips tightly and ignored the question. Aziraphale was sensitive enough not to pursue the matter. It wouldn’t do for a demon to be caught crying in public.

“It’s going to end just like before, Angel,” Crowley said forcefully. “Too many people won’t like his message. It’ll be just like Golgotha for this one. _Just_ like it.”

So that was it, the reason behind the demon’s mood. He remembered their conversation that day.

_What did he say to make everyone so upset?_

_Be kind to each other._

Aziraphale felt his shoulders slump as he realized Crowley was probably right.

“I’m afraid that may be the case, my dear. Sadly. We can only hope not.”

_“… black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual: “Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!”_

And with that, Dr. King stepped away from the podium. The great speech had ended but Aziraphale knew the crowds would linger. Crowley put his hand on Aziraphale’s arm.

“Let’s go, angel. I need to get away from this and just sit with you. Have a drink. A bite to eat, maybe. Tempt you to lunch?”

Aziraphale smiled, though his eyes remained sad. “Temptation accomplished, my dear,” he said softly. “I do know a place just a few blocks from here…”

Crowley tightened his hold on his arm. “Not here, angel,” he pleaded. “I can’t. I dunno. It’s just ... been too much,” he finished lamely. 

Aziraphale wasn’t sure if the demon meant he was affected by the feeling of near holiness still emanating from the monument, or if he meant that this was all too emotionally draining. Perhaps it was both. He didn’t ask.

“Let’s go home, angel,” Crowley continued. “Miracle ourselves back over the pond. What would you say to some oysters? Maybe catch a play or a movie. Something funny. Something light.”

This time it was Aziraphale that put his hand on Crowley’s shoulder. “Home sounds wonderful, my dear. Let’s go.” 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find the recordings of Dr. King's "I Have a Dream" speech on YouTube, and it's certainly worth a watch if you haven't seen it already.


End file.
